Inner Turmoil
by randomcat23
Summary: Sometimes it's easier to hide emotions. It feels safer, it's more comfortable to keep the status quo. Maka and Soul got used to dancing the same steps. But when Soul falls into madness, both he and Maka will have to stop ignoring their feelings if he's ever to return to sanity.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** Randomcat23 does not own Soul Eater.

* * *

"Here, this is the one."

Maka sucked in a breath of damp air and paused at the cackling coming from the dark cell. They had told her once, but she had to ask again, "How long has he been in there?"

"A month," came Stein's short reply.

The mad laughter echoed down the tunnel again. Maka steeled her nerves and approached the heavy steel door. The cell window offered a depressing scene in the dim light; the only furniture was a simple, unused, cot pressed up against the thick stone walls. On the opposite wall, laughing, sat a figure stooped over his chained arms and legs.

"I'll stay right here," Stein said as he dug around in his pocket for something. The warning went unvoiced: _"In case something happens."_

Maka tore her eyes away from the man in the cell and glanced back at her approaching professor. A key was produced and he unlocked the door, which swung back only after the older meister pushed it.

Maka could not repress her gulp, but she lifted her heavy feet and shuffled into the cell, closer now to the cackles and closer to her partner, Soul.

His normally white hair was now dingy gray and bounced lightly as his head bobbed. Maka stopped in front of his legs, now much too thin, and squatted down.

_"I can help him, I can fix him," _Maka promised to herself as she noted the sorry state of his clothes and the way those piercing red eyes had yet to meet hers. She found her heart thudding louder now that she was in front of him and could feel the madness coiling around the Death Scythe's form.

With a sudden jerk, Soul's head popped up and he cut his laughter mid breath. Maka froze on the spot too. She did not realize she was holding her breath until a moment later when Soul sucked in a deep guzzle of air and stared wide-eyed at his meister.

_"I can help him, I can fix him."_

A smile full of pointy teeth spread Soul's cheeks.

_"I can help him."_

Chains jangled at Soul's ankles as he shifted his feet. Still, his red gaze shone in the dark.

_"I can fix him."_

"HAH!"

Maka jumped and emitted a pathetic squeak.

"HahaaaHAAAHaaah!"

Soul's wicked laughter came in bursts, changed pitch randomly, but continued for minutes before he clamped his mouth shut and dipped his white mop of hair.

_"I can help him."_

"Soul?"

"Pffhhtt."

"Soul," she tried again, abet timidly.

He threw his head up against the stone wall, a blow that surely broke skin. But still, Soul grinned.

"Haaallo, Maka."

She was too startled to speak and he soon lapsed back into low giggles.

_"Can't I?"_

* * *

It was not easy seeing Soul sick with madness. Dr. Stein and Shinigami-sama had warned her about Soul's state of mind, but when they called her back from the deep jungle with such urgency, Maka should have prepared better. Granted, there were delays; it was not easy to drop one high priority mission for another; only once a year did they recruit in the isolated Asian jungles. The guilt had eaten at her stomach continuously, but when Maka made it back to Death City she thought that gnawing would cease.

Boy, was she wrong.

This was not going to be as simple as she thought. Soul had pulled her from madness, but that time, Maka had not seeped in insanity for over a month.

"Ouch!" Maka dropped the tea cup after burning her tongue. It was then she realized her hands were still shaking. A half hour in Dr. Stein's office was not long enough. The image of Soul cackling through his pointy grin was at the forefront of her mind and refused to dissipate.

"Here," Dr. Stein produced an ice cube like he had the cell key, with ease and no emotion. Maka took the cold object and sucked on it, frowning. "Are you sure you're alright?"

He was definitely was not talking about the burn. "I'm...fine."

"You know," Stein began as he turned away to light a cigarette, "Soul asked to be placed in a cell."

He had told her that previously. "Yes, I know." Maka let out a weighty sigh. "There's hope."

Stein simply nodded and puffed.

* * *

The walk back to her apartment took longer than usual. She wasn't ready to face the pouncing cat that surely would be at the door. Maka kept turning down side streets lined with brick buildings, increasing the distance as well as the time for her to think. As she splashed through a puddle, Maka replayed an earlier conversation with Dr. Stein.

_"There was a lot of stress on him, to be sure. The deaths in his family, the injuries over the last year."_

_"But surely that isn't enough for him to dip into madness?"_

_Stein shrugged, "We underestimated the importance of your anti-demon wavelength. He overestimated his strength." One second, two. "However, I imagine there was a catalyst." _

A car rumbled down the cobblestone road, splashing water on to the sidewalk. Maka clutched her shirt and mumbled, "Yeah, there was a catalyst." Guilt crept back with a vengeance along with the memories.

_"Maka...I," Soul, normally straight to the point, fumbled his words. _

_She stared at him like an idiot and continued to do so as he said those three, glorious and frightening words. Then when he leaned in, a spark of fear went off in her brain, burning all shock and maybe some joy. Maka leapt away from a stunned Soul._

_He had stared at her then with disappointment weighing down his shoulders. There was sadness too. _

_Maka turned to run, and sprinted._

"The next day I was sent away," she remembered and swallowed a lump. Maka did not want to think she was responsible for Soul's madness, but the stone in her stomach made her accept the blame as fact.

Just as the light of her living room appeared around the corner, Maka set her jaw and pushed away the memories and the remorse, at least for the time. "I'll fix him," the mantra escaped her lips again.

* * *

Following Stein and Shinigami-sama's suggestion, Maka returned to Soul's cell the next day and sat on the cold floor. He was quiet today, but followed her movements with his eyes.

After sucking in a breath, Maka closed her eyes and sensed her partner's familiar soul. The lack of resistance was surprising, but welcome. Maka quickly found herself in the Black Room.

Thousands of splinters covered the floor. As she toured the space, Maka stepped around a broken piano key, separated from its home. There was an odd twist to the walls and the room reeked of madness and destruction. Maka narrowed her focus on the back of a tall figure to her right. "Soul."

"Maka," responded the figure. His voice peculiarly sounded twice, like one voice was layered on another. A hand brushed each of his pinstriped shoulders before he spun around on a heel.

"Soul."

"How...nice of you to appear," he sneered through gritted teeth.

It was not just his voice that was different. What she had thought were just shadows were actually small horns protruding out of the white hair. Maka took a step closer, not believing.

"Where's the ogre?" She asked, trying to keep her voice even. The little imp usually hung out in a corner, or near the piano.

A chuckle, "Come now, you know where he is." Soul tapped his chest and glared back with black eyes punctuated with red.

Scratchy jazz music erupted from somewhere, sending Soul into a fit of laughter. "Isn't it glorious, Maka? The music is finally loud enough to enjoy!" He whipped a leg around, smashing what remained of the piano.

"Soul, I'm here to bring you back." The music almost drowned her declaration. If Soul heard it, he made no remark.

In a split second, he stepped across the floor and thrust out a hand. "Dance with me, Maka!"

"No, thank you," she declined.

Soul curled and uncurled his hand, beckoning. When she shook her head, he growled just loud enough to travel over the jazz. "If you won't join me, leave!"

Why did she think this would be easy? In her head, Maka imagined entering his soul and finding her partner lost, but looking for escape. Instead, she was faced with a demon-Soul hybrid who did not listen to what she said, or answered her questions.

Persistently, Maka asked again, "Come back with me."

He paused then, tilted his head as if listening, and then cracked his knuckles. In a second, Soul grasped Maka's hand and whipped her out of the room's door. The only other response she received was the door slamming tightly behind her.

* * *

"Well, that didn't go well," Maka sighed and rubbed her weary eyes. After her encounter with Soul in the Black Room she left his cackling body behind and stalked over to Professor Stein's office to brainstorm.

"You need to dismantle the catalyst," came Stein's reply through a cloud of white smoke. "His madness is riding on something."

Maka nodded, "I know what set him off." Hesitation and guilt made her look away. "I'm just not sure how to stop it."

Marie entered the room with a tray of hot mugs. One steaming cup went to Maka while the older woman kept one for herself. "Sometimes persistence works," Marie offered with a glance at her meister and perched on the edge of the couch. "It might help if you simply spent more time with him."

"I suggest you attack it head on." Stein countered. "He's beyond preventive measures at this point." The strike of a match filled the gap in conversation.

Maka dipped her head knowing he was right. As much as she wanted Marie's plan to work, to just sit with Soul and watch the madness ebb away, Maka knew it would take something more drastic than that. She sipped her hot tea, but it did nothing to quell the cold remorse and fear growing in her stomach.

* * *

She tried again the next day. At first, Maka thought she should simply observe him, see how he acted. But the jangling chains, the howling laughter, and uneaten food convinced Maka there was no time to waste.

Maka entered the Black Room with goose bumps. There was an abnormal chill in the air, an aching coolness that floated up her legs and body. Maka rubbed her arms and glanced around for locate Soul. It was then she realized her attire was different. Instead of the usual elegant evening gown, there was an extremely short, low cut dress in its place. Instinctively, she tugged at the hem, embarrassed.

"I know what you're afraid of, Maka." Soul emerged from behind the shadow in the corner, dapper as always, and still stinking of madness. At his declaration he jerked his head confidently in her direction as if he had just discovered a grand secret.

There was no time to question the dress. Maka straightened her pose and walked closer, her shoes clacking on the floor. "Oh yeah?" Somehow she needed to find a weakness, some kind of hint as to how she could help him.

His horned head dipped in a nod. "I do. You're afraid of what I want," Soul's dual voice answered. The tall candles flickered in time with the jazz music, scattering the shadows over the cold tiles. Even though his hands were stuffed in pants pockets, there was something dangerous about his stance. It was so nonchalant and relaxed, like a predator confidently eyeing its prey.

She instinctively halted her walk and scrutinized him through narrowed eyes, "And what do you want?"

The movement was so fast that Maka was pressed up against the wall before she had time to blink. She struggled against his hold, but Soul pinned her arms over her head against the black wall. Once again, Maka found herself staring into the hooded, bloody eyes of her partner. There was a darkness swirling in them, even as a smirk tugged at his lips. A devious chuckle rumbled through him and Maka went cold.

Soul leaned in and whispered in her ear, "I want you." The throaty confession crawled over her skin. "I want to _fuck_ you."

Horrified, Maka attempted to kick him away, but Soul simply blocked her leg with a knee and leaned in again, teeth scrapping the soft skin at her neck. She strained to get away from his mouth unsuccessfully and she inwardly cursed his strength. All those times Soul had carried her effortlessly flash before her mind.

Without a physical defense, she put up a verbal one, "Stop!"

"You know what else?" He asked, ignoring her plea. One hand grasped both her wrists and the other traveled down, brushing her neck, tracing the outline of her breasts, and finally rested just under the hem of the so short dress. Red eyes met paralyzed green ones. For each second of silence that passed Soul brought the hand higher up her thigh and more throaty chuckles. He paused to laugh and outline the band of her underwear, causing Maka to shake her head furiously and pull at her trapped hands. "You're afraid you want it too."

One final tug loosened his grip just enough so she could free one hand. Without thinking, Maka smacked Soul across his head and followed up her attack with a violent kick, which took out his legs. As she turned to run for the door, Soul managed to grab her ankle, and began pulling her across the floor through the piano splinters.

"You know I'm right," he scolded her, hands now on her calf, fingers pressing into her skin.

Maka inwardly cursed high heels, then pushed herself up and lunged at Soul. A perfectly placed punch sent the mad scythe skittering over the title and piano splitters. She did not look to see if he stopped tumbling; Maka stood and sprinted for the door.

The only thing that after chased her was manic laughter.

* * *

Maka scrambled away from her partner as soon as she opened her eyes. Surprisingly, Soul had done the same, clinging to the wall as he laughed mechanically, his thin chest heaving with the effort. She shuddered at the memory of the Black Room, of Soul's roaming, demanding hands.

Is that how it really was with him?

Her head rested against the stone wall. At the moment, she didn't feel like there was nearly enough distance between them. Maybe if she hugged the wall, Soul would not try anything. Another shudder wracked her body.

"Maka, do you still like me?"

The loud question made her dare to look at him. In between the laughter, he asked her again and rustled the chains. They were pulled taut, so tightly his wrists were bent at awkward angles.

To her own surprise, Maka met her partner's gaze across the shadowed room and gasped. Even though his face was turned up in a grin, tears stained Soul's grubby face. There were more pooling in his eyes as a momentary silence swept over them.

"Huh?! Do you still want me for a partner? Sick, sick, hahaaaa, so SICK!" Soul yelled again as he tried to pull himself deeper into the corner of the room. The laughs and giggles did not stop, yet neither did the tears.

She took one step closer and then another. Maka's heart pounded powerfully in her chest, but she just had to see, just had to know. One more step and Soul jerked his body again toward the corner, away from her approach. Shoulders shaking, Soul lifted his head.

There was a sloppy grin on his face.

There was laughter bubbling in his chest.

But when Maka caught his gaze, her heart settled into a normal rhythm.

There was a darkness there, swirling in those red, red pupils. But there was something else too. There was fear in his eyes.

Maka knew then that Soul was not too far gone. Her partner was not completely succumbed to madness.

* * *

He was right. That scared her.

Some part of her wanted exactly what he wanted. The part of her that trusted Soul more than anything. The part of her that found his smile sexy, his protectiveness endearing. The part of her that stole glances at him when he exited the bathroom in nothing but a towel and a cloud of steam.

On the other hand, Maka quivered at the thought. Men had been her declared enemy for years. She was not supposed to like them, the cheating, lying, two-timing bastards that they all were. But Maka was no longer ten, she had out grown her generalized conviction. But that conviction was safe, cozy, and well known. There was no room for exceptions named Soul.

Maka buried under her comforter as if she could bury herself back into the belief that all men were cheats.

_"Except Soul."_

But what was she supposed to do now? The spark of his madness was her rejection. She was far away from understanding why that set him down the path to madness, but there were a few things she knew.

Soul, her partner, her best friend, loved her. Romantically.

When she ran away from Soul, it broke something inside of him.

And he was right that Maka felt the attraction too.

She blushed at the thought and squirmed deeper into her bed.

"What am I supposed to do?" Maka wondered out loud.

"Nya, why not tell him how you feel?"

The teenager shucked her blankets as she sat up and glared at the purple cat. "Blair!"

The magical cat chose to ignore Maka's blush and clean herself instead. Her ears twitched, picking up the breeze from the window.

"How could that help Soul?"

One more lick. Blair lowered her hind leg and cocked her head at the young meister. "You rejected him, nya?"

"Well, yes, but not really!" Maka stood up, suddenly too hot. She leaned out the open window and sighed. "I didn't say anything..."

"You rejected him," Blair confirmed. "Even though you felt the same way," she added with a low purr.

Maka spun around and crossed her arms. "What was I supposed to say? It happened all of a sudden!" Her feet made soft noises as she paced back and forth, pausing every four steps to glare at the cat.

Blair stretched and yawned, already annoyed with Maka's hesitation. "How long were you going to deny your feelings for him, hmm?"

The pacing stopped. "I...I, well, I don't know. Not forever! And I'm not denying them, I'm just not_ acting_ on them!" Maka declared.

The purple cat pawed to the edge of the bed and sat. Her golden eyes bored into Maka's green ones. "That's not fair," Blair scolded.

Her hands were already raised defensively, but Maka let the cat's words roll over her. She dropped her aggressive stance and took a place next to the purple cat.

"It's not, is it?" Maka conceded.

"Nope."

After a few moments, Maka admitted, "But I'm scared. What if..." They'd been dancing the same steps for years, her and Soul. Was she really ready to add new ones?

"Maka-chan, it's Soul," Blair reminded, reading the blonde's mind. "He's the most loyal guy I've ever met," she ended with a sniff.

Anticipation bubbled in Maka's heart. She shook her head at herself, "I've been selfish. I think I knew from the start what I needed to do. And I can't believe I've wasted so much time."

* * *

This was supposed to be a one-shot, but 15 pages later I decided to split it into two chapters. Chapter two will be posted soon. It's nearly complete.

In my head, Blair actually gives good relationship advice when she feels like it.

Feedback is greatly appreciated!-randomcat23


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** Randomcat23 does not own Soul Eater.

* * *

The bleak hallway failed to quench the fire in her. Maka strode down the passage to Soul's cell with confident steps and a firm mouth. It was time this ended. It was time she made good on her promise.

Dr. Stein unlocked the large door, stepping aside to let the younger meister through. He then took up post on the opposite wall in the hallway.

With a click, the door shut behind her.

"Soul, I've come to rescue you," she declared, but rousted no response from the mad man in chains.

Maka stood in front of him, making sure she noticed the damage. The damage she was partially responsible for. Each cut where he resisted and the hollowness in his cheeks were memorized. Maka cupped her partner's face and whispered, "I'm sorry I took so long, Soul." With affection, she brushed the grungy bangs out of his clouded eyes.

"You shouldn't have come back," the words tumbled out of Soul. "Hhaahha, stupid, but you did! Aren't you afraid of me?" He cocked his head in her palms.

"No, I'm not." Maka stepped back and took her place on the stone floor. Closing her eyes, Maka remembered her talk with Blair and the plan they had concocted. It had originally filled her veins with fear, but now Maka felt oddly at peace.

It was time to end this.

Carefully, she reached out to the twisted man in front of her with her soul, prodded, and was granted entrance without resistance.

When she arrived in the Black Room, Maka wasted no time in approaching Soul from behind. Her heels clacked on the tile with purpose, announcing her presence. Maka sighed silently; her dress was back to the long, elegant evening gown she knew. When she patted his arm Maka asked, "Soul, do you want to dance?"

His teeth clenched in a wicked grin. "I've been waiting for you to ask," Soul admitted, his dual voice echoing slightly over the jazzy background music. Without wasting time, he led her to the center of the room and took the lead.

Her hand rested on his shoulder and Maka let Soul snake an arm around her waist. The darkness in his eyes swirled under the light of the candles. She cringed at the sight of the horns as he twirled her. When Soul grinned wolfishly, Maka inwardly flinched, thinking of her plan. But she steeled herself and let Soul guide her in a dance around the splintered-scattered floor.

Even in madness, she admitted he was handsome. Soul was soaked in a dangerous confidence, from the swagger in his hips to the smirk tugging at his mouth. Although it was a confidence brought on by madness, Maka was drawn to it. It was a sweet, sweet thing, having no fear. She found Soul quite sexy when his coolness wasn't hidden behind his usual mask.

But this wasn't him, not really. Soul did fear things, so much that he laid down his life daily to protect people from harm and the consequences of madness. A frightened Soul was much more attractive than the swaying, fearless man currently twirling her around.

She was afraid of what the future held. The thought of tearing down the walls she had built over the years shook Maka heart. But the fear of losing Soul to madness made her soul tremble.

She let thoughts of his grin, his loyalty, his bravery wash over her. Once Soul's insane eyes latched on to hers, she held onto that attraction, the memories of him when sane, their partnership and friendship.

And the promise of something more.

"So glad you decided to join me," Soul's dual voice whispered in her ears as he pulled her to his chest. They teetered a few steps to the left and then spun back to the right.

"I'd follow you anywhere," she admitted, "and I know you'd do the same."

A tooth dug into his lip as he struggled to contain himself. "Dive into madness with me, Maka!"

The music skittered to a stop as did their feet. Black eyes poured into green ones with dark anticipation.

"No," she said calmly, "I'd rather you come with me." Before Soul could voice his disappointment, Maka initiated her plan; she leaned up and kiss him solidly. The mad man stumbled backward, surprise tripping him, but she managed to keep contact. "I want just you, Soul." She crashed her lips on his again and pressed her right hand over his heart, pushing forcefully.

Pushing, _pushing_, her hand went through the smooth suit fabric into his very being and found something twisted, foreign, and black. Maka crashed her lips into Soul's as her hand punched that black thing out of Soul with a sickening _pop!_

The not-so-little ogre fell back out of Soul and tumbled across the checkered floor.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!" The red creature screeched, staring angrily from his body to where he had emerged from. He jumped at a stupefied Soul, the ogre's legs not as short as they used to be. Maka slid passed a stunned Soul and met the ogre herself with a kick to his head.

It screeched as it tumbled across the floor. "No, no, no, NO! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE, GIRL, YOU BITCH?!"

"I put you back where you belong, ogre," Maka declared and crossed her arms.

Furious, the ogre thrashed on the floor and bit into his long red fingers.

"Maka." Her heart fluttered hearing his voice, just _his_ voice. When she finally turned to face him, the look of relief and gratitude on his face was enough to make her cry.

"Soul," she smiled and led her partner out the door, slamming it on the screaming imp.

* * *

Maka opened her eyes and rushed to Soul's limp body.

"Soul. Soul!" She called. Gingerly, she undid the chains on his wrists. "Soul!"

"Maka..." Her name was whispered as Soul crumpled to the stone floor. Maka dropped too and managed to catch his head in her hands. Settled, she rested his head in her lap and placed her forehead to his.

"Soul."

"The shitty jazz has stopped," he murmured through chapped lips before falling asleep.

* * *

The damage was appalling, but if nothing else, Soul was stubborn and healed at a rapid rate. The open wounds closed on his second day in the infirmary. He slept for nearly three days straight having rarely slumbered in his cell. Within the first week his bruises eased from deep purple to pale yellow and green. Slowly, Soul went from slurping simple broths to digesting solid foods; His ribs were still visible when he didn't have a shirt on and there was a gauntness in his face, but that would take much more time to fill out.

They had told them to refrain from resonance, even in the slightest. "You basically punched his soul, Maka. Give him time to recover," Stein had said with a smirk. So, instead of resonance, Maka remained in the room for his entire recuperation.

She assisted with each bandage, fed him when he was unable to feed himself, and slept on the small bed Nygus had provided on the first night. Three weeks later, the bed remained.

Maka was currently napping on that small bed. Her head rested on the white sheets, just within Soul's reach. So much had happened in so little time. As she snoozed, Soul found himself running his fingers through her hair. The simple stroking set him at ease and allowed him to remember the events that led them here.

Four months ago a car crash killed his father. If Wes calling him wasn't enough to shock Soul, the news surely knocked him to his ass. Given what Soul faced everyday of his life, snarling monsters, world threatening madness, and he always made it out with fixable injuries, a car crash seemed like an impossible way to die.

Maka came with him to the funeral of course, but he was damned if he'd let her see him cry. He sucked back every tear, every snarl of incomprehensible rage.

A car crash killed his father.

His father was gone.

The fact rang in his head as he and Maka traveled all the way across the country to his hometown. Soul ignored the fact that he never imagined introducing Maka to his family, not like this, anyway. He never really imagined himself coming home in the first place, but now he regretted never making the trip with Maka.

Soul also ignored the devilish voice in his head that said, "_Oh what do you care? You weren't close to your father anyway."_

But it still hurt.

It hurt like hell.

The days leading up to the funeral were a blur. There was no comfort to be found in his family; now that his grandmother was gone, there was no one who cared. Wes and his mother were dealing with their own grief and the house settled into stunning silences. The funeral itself was over before Soul realized it and the rest of the trip he wandered in a daze. Maka was his only life boat. Her warm soul and soft, reassuring touches were enough to stabilize him.

It wasn't until he and Maka returned to Death City that he remembered feeling anything again. That first step back into the cozy apartment filled Soul with relief. Maka had squeezed his shoulder lightly and set to making dinner. It was the first time he smiled in a week.

Life went on.

And he told himself he was fine.

Then, for the first time in a long time, Soul's mother called him. She wondered how he was doing and actually asked him questions about school, about life, even about his battles. With a calm laugh, she expressed her gratitude for him and Maka coming home. Soul didn't say anything to anyone and he barely admitted it to himself, but he really needed to hear that from his mother.

Then one day she called him up and broke down sobbing. When he asked why, she had answered shrilly, "Just, just, shut up! You sound just like _him_!"

Just like his father.

That was the last time she called.

All the small steps that had gone to rebuilding his trust in his family crumbled.

The days pressed on and Soul continued carefully ignoring his grief. When it crept up on him, he squashed it with defiance. He was fine, wasn't he? He didn't want to feel so shitty about the man who had once made him so angry, still made him angry.

But when he ignored his emotions, naturally the demon in his head took advantage. While he grinned on the outside, Soul's insides coiled and twisted, tighter, tighter the more he insisted that he was fine. Maka's presence was the only thing that reprieved him for a few precious moments. When the days added up to months, something inside of him snapped.

He was tired of teetering on the edge of nothingness. His mind ached from forcing himself to feel nothing, to show nothing. He was tired of ignoring the pain and, he decided, tired of ignoring his feelings for Maka. It had seemed like such a good idea. Soul knew they had something between them; he felt it every time her soul brushed his.

He confessed his feelings to Maka in a desperate attempt to feel, to stop denying his feelings after denying them for so long. He had ignored his grief for his father, he had repressed his love for Maka. And after weeks of all these bottled up, disregarded emotions, Soul desperately needed love. His mother shunned him, Wes remained silent, so Soul reached out to the only person who had never let him down.

Obviously, any love confession that's made out of desperation is doomed to go poorly. Maka ran and Soul recoiled; so it was a bad idea after all.

With Maka gone, Soul remembered slipping, bit by bit into madness. Soul's attempt at filling the void in his heart failed, his one saving grace was gone. The ogre called sweetly, promising power and destruction of feelings. Without Maka's wavelength, her smile, her courage, without her, he fell back into that dark hole in his soul, where it finally felt _so_ right...

They had not spoken of the time in the Black Room. In between Black Star's jolly intrusions, Tsubaki's calm relief, and Kid, Patty, and Liz's visits, Soul and Maka would catch each other's eyes and know that it hung between them. That demonic scene played over in their heads.

Soul shook his head, pausing his finger strokes through Maka's hair. Maka yawned and sat up with a stretch, smiling slightly at her partner. His eyes were still sensitive to light, so the blinds were only half opened, but the sunbeams leaked through the tiny slots. Maka got up to adjust them so they did not shine in Soul's face.

As she tugged on the cord, Soul called to her.

Maka could feel his soul tentatively pressing out to hers, soft and almost shy. It had been nearly a month since she had punched his soul. She knew before she turned around what he wanted to talk about. After a deep breath, Maka returned to the bedside and sat down, offering another small smile at his disheveled hair and the color returning to his face.

"What is it, Soul?"

Sharp teeth bit into his bottom lip as he squirmed under the sheets. He reached out with bandaged hands, but quickly dropped them without making contact. Giving up on physical means, Soul tried verbally. "Maka, I..." He suddenly found interest in the recently swept floor tiles and clamped his mouth shut. There was so much he wanted to say about his father's funeral, about her, about the Black Room, about his madness.

In the silence, Maka studied his hands, callused, much larger than hers, and very much a man's hands. The feeling of those uninvited, searching hands emerged from her memory. She remembered the gleam in his eyes and the shine of his pointed teeth as he told her what he wanted. And although he was consumed by madness, Maka knew and Soul knew, that what happened in the Black Room was part of who he was and how he felt about her.

She remembered all too well the panic that had devoured her. She was nowhere near ready for that.

But Maka also remembered Soul's tears.

Slowly, Maka prodded his soul with her own. Searching. Questioning. Answering his own doubt with reassurance.

He returned in kind with small bursts of guilt, embarrassment, and fear over their link. Guilt that he had first put her in an awkward position by confessing to her, that he'd done those things to her without consent. Embarrassment that the madness had brought out that side of him unbidden. And fear that all of it had scared her away.

Maka giggled slightly at this last feeling and finally opened her eyes. "Soul, I came back and kissed you," she reminded him with a blush, "and pushed a crazy ogre out of you." Her hand found his across the soft sheets.

"I..." Stupid words. Soul pulled her into an embrace and she carefully shifted her weight so that it did not rest on any of his healing wounds. "Thank you for saving me."

"YA-HOO!" In a burst of noise and splintering wood, Black*Star barreled through the doorway, interrupting the reconciliation. He waved magazines over his head gleefully. Shocked, Soul and Maka jolted apart. "Soul, I brought magazines for you!"

"Black*Star!" Tsubaki's irritated voice came from the hallway. "You said you were going to bring him something light and educational!"

"I did! Have _you_ ever seen boobs like this, Soul?" Pictures of scantily clad women were suddenly shoved up under Soul's bleeding nose. "Check out the rack on this-"

"MAKA-CHOP!"

The blue-haired ninja went flying backwards towards the door, leaving a cloud of magazine pages behind him. Tsubaki quickly picked up her partner and repeatedly apologized to Maka and Soul. After a few minutes of clean up, the duo returned to the room, this time without the pictures. If Tsubaki noticed how close Maka and Soul were sitting, she refrained from mentioning it.

Black*Star instantly dove into a crazy story about his latest mission before Tsubaki interrupted him by asking, "How are you feeling, Soul?"

Soul know he didn't look good with the bandages and bruises, especially under the sterile light. But he took one glance at Maka and answered, "I'm fine," because for the first time in a long time he meant it.

* * *

After a month of recovery, Soul was allowed to leave the infirmary. Nygus gave him an appointment for the following week, but sent the Death Scythe and meister off with a smile. The color had finally returned to his face and he was back to eating full meals. There was still some signs of his time in madness; Maka noted how his jacket fit loosely over thin shoulders and sighed, but the physical reminders seemed seemed like nothing compared to the nightmare's he struggled through each night.

It would be awhile before any missions came their way.

Soul grinned wolfishly as soon as they stepped outside. It was the first time he had felt the sun in months.

"We have to walk home, Soul, but I promise we can ride your bike in a few weeks," Maka reminded him as he bask in the light. She cut his protest short by lacing their fingers together.

"Who wants to walk, anyway?"

They walked, hand and hand down the streets in comfortable silence. A smile cracked Maka's lips as she swung Soul's arm in time with their steps. It was finally time to go home. There were only a few people out and about, but some recognized them.

"Death Scythe and Miss Maka, it's been awhile. Soul, you look like a truck hit ya!" The one bakery guy yelled out to them with a good-natured wave. He gave them each a free pastry. The school had refrained from explaining to people that Soul was recovering from a madness attack, for which Soul was grateful. The jokes were not out of the norm for Maka and Soul, who had made a habit of patronizing the local stores frequently.

But each greeting was punctuated in Soul's head by a jab from the furious ogre.

_"Just wait, I'll really run you over."_

_"Enjoy your freedom now. It won't last long."_

_"Don't be a fool, Soul. You're closer to madness now than ever."_

Maka watched Soul grimace at the retorts. Even though she could not hear him, she knew who was causing Soul's grip on her hand to tighten with each greeting. After three people said hello to them, Soul quickened his pace, eager to get away from people and their ignorance.

He could fight this inner turmoil much easier in the safety of their apartment.

When they finally climbed the steps to their apartment and walked through the front door, Maka inquired, "He's bothering you, isn't he?"

"Not more than normal," Soul lied even though he was clutching his temples.

Maka frowned and led Soul to the couch. "Sit."

He obeyed, but pulled her down with him. "Stay with me." He hadn't intended for it to come out as a plea, but the quiver in his voice gave him away.

It was foolish of her to even think that the fight was over when she kissed Soul in the Black Room. Yes, she had separated the madness from Soul, but she could not eradicate it completely. She wondered, as she held Soul, if he could fight off the ogre well enough on his own, or if now, her presence was always necessary. Maka steeled her nerves and slowly reached out to his soul with hers. He instantly relaxed at her touch.

"I'll go back in there and punch him again if I need to," she boldly to keep Soul safe, even face a demonized Soul again.

He gave her a small smile, closing his eyes as her presence helped him force the ogre away. Maka knew she could fight madness; that was a dance she knew all too well. Any enemy that dared face her and Soul, Maka knew with complete certainty that they would slash them to pieces.

But this relationship thing, she did not know.

She blushed suddenly and pulled back.

"Maka?"

She felt selfish for bringing it up now, now when he was still recovering, still remembering how to keep the madness at bay.

"Soul, we have to talk about this," she gestured between them, the realization striking her, "and the Black Room." The last part came out in a rush as Maka dipped her head.

He sucked in a breath; it wasn't the ogre she was talking about. Soul sighed in understanding, "Maka," he started, then drew her into an embrace, "I'd never do anything you don't want me to."

"But, you said..." She was stuttering now, embarrassed. Hadn't she already kissed him? Did she not go back and save him? He was mad, crazy, bonkers, at the time, but Maka still shuddered at the unwanted attention and future inquiries.

"Yeah, I want you," Soul confirmed huskily, gripping Maka tighter even as she squirmed. He straightened his arms once she stilled and lifted her chin. "But cool guys don't force that on girls."

"Soul..."

He apologized again, as he did in the hospital room. Reaching out his soul, he met Maka's, almost sighing at the close feeling. "I fucking hated myself," he confessed. "I hated that I let madness drive me to that point."

"I know," she confirmed, gripping his hand. "I know, I just...," she paused, "Relationships...I've never done this before."

"I know," he laughed again heartily, the sound making Maka's heart flutter. "You hate men, remember?"

"Not all men!" Maka retorted, then amended, "Well, not you."

"Do you trust me?" His red eyes met hers, inquiring.

Her response was immediate, "Yes."

Soul moved quickly, pressing her gently backwards. She felt the couch against her back, heard a hitch of anticipation in his breath, and found her heart hammering against her ribcage. After brushing a lock of hair behind her ear, Soul hesitated. He waited for her permission, to prove a point, to confirm what she already knew; that Soul, would never purposely harm her.

Maka met his gaze, felt his body pressed up against hers. He was still much too thin, but there was a warmth radiating off of Soul that comforted her to the bone. Guiding one of his hands to her hip and another behind her head, Maka then slid her arms around his shoulders with a shy smile.

She had done her part, the final step was his.

Under the yellow light of their living room, Soul kissed his meister. Slowly at first, he resisted the urge to devour her soft lips. Then, when Maka didn't retreat, Soul let a throaty chuckle escape and kissed her deeper, immersing himself in the feeling and the way the demon shrunk from his mind.

The months of pain dimmed.

The waiting was worth it.

For her, he'd make sure madness never enticed him away again, so that he would always be in control. If that meant destroying his manly pride every once in awhile by crying, Soul would do so. If that meant spilling his guts to her, he would do so.

Flushed, Maka followed his lead, reacting enthusiastically to his nibbles, his caresses, his skilled tongue. Was this was she had been so afraid of? This overwhelming sense of rightness?

"I love you, Maka."

The confession hung in between them as their foreheads pressed against each other's, their breath mingling together. Maka blinked, realizing what he just said, those same words that she had run from. She was pulled into his chest instantly and could feel his heart pounding.

This time she did not run. Instead, she gave him an answer, and repeated the phrase right back.

* * *

Finally done!

This was a lot longer than I anticipated and it nearly kicked my butt. I hope it flowed well enough.

Hope you enjoyed it! Reviews are greatly appreciated!-randomcat23


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